Sweet charlotte
By Kate Genet
When a dear friend of Michaela’s holds a séance as part of her research for a book she’s writing, things don’t go quite as planned. Communication with those beyond the grave is no sure thing and the spirit who comes through is not the right one. That should have been the end of it, but things are just never that simple. Finally, in desperation, Michaela and Trisha are asked to help unravel the mysterious and frightening events that follow the séance.
Michaela won’t turn her back on a friend in need but Trisha thinks they would both be seriously crazy to get involved. Trisha’s even more worried when her sister Caro is determined to play paranormal investigator right alongside Michaela. Drawn into a dangerous web of madness that claws at them from beyond the grave, can the girls find the strength and courage to do battle? Thrown in the deep end, Trisha especially has to decide whether her faith in herself and her love is enough to save them all.
SWEET CHARLOTTE
By Kate Genet
Copyright 2011
Smashwords Edition
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
CHAPTER ONE
“What’s this?” Trisha asked, walking into the room holding an envelope in her hand. “Since when does anyone send anything by snail mail anymore?”
Michaela looked up. She was leaning against the bench, pouring over paperwork for the orchard. “Who’s it addressed to?”
Trisha held it up. “You, of course,” she said.
“Open it up babe, see what it is,” Michaela replied and looked back down at the paperwork again. She was trying to figure out the best way to upgrade the irrigation.
“But it’s addressed to you,” Trisha protested. “I can’t open your mail.”
“Sure you can. I just said you could.” Damn, there was going to be another long discussion with the orchard manager. The sooner they got this figured out the better.
“It’s a love letter,” Trisha said.
Michaela turned to another of the pages spread out in front of her. “Uh huh.”
“And the tickets for the Mediterranean cruise the two of you are going on.”
Michaela nodded. “Sounds nice.”
Trisha scowled. “Jeeze Michaela, you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you? What do I have to do to get your attention these days? Parade around naked?”
Michaela lifted her head. “Did you say something about getting naked?” She made a show of checking her watch. “I have time for that, if we’re quick.”
Trisha folded her arms and glared at her.
Michaela flashed a sheepish grin and stood straight, stretching. “Yeah yeah, okay Trish. I’m listening now. When am I going on a cruise with this lover of mine, who, just for the record, I know nothing about?”
Trisha gave up. She put the letter down and dragged Michaela down to her level for a smacking kiss. “You,” she said, “are impossible. I swear, if you weren’t so dang hot, I’d trade you in lickety split.”
Michaela removed Trisha’s fingers from their grip on her ears and went back for another kiss. “Dang? Lickety split? What dictionary have you been reading now?”
Shrugging, Trisha hitched herself up onto the bench and sat on Michaela’s papers swinging her feet. “I’m trying to tidy up my vocabulary,” she said. “You know, what with us being guardians and role models and all that sh… stuff.”
Michaela laughed, stepped up between Trisha’s thighs and wrapped her arms around the woman. Trisha’s legs hooked her closer. “Caro is going to kill herself laughing at you if she hears you saying lickety split,” she murmured into the warmth of Trisha’s neck. Then in one smooth movement, she hoisted Trisha up off the bench and placed her back on the floor. “You’re cute little butt was sitting on my papers,” she said. “Let’s have a look at this letter then.”
“It’s an invitation,” Trisha said and leaned against the bench instead. “From those weird friends of yours.”
Michaela scanned the hand written note. “They’re not weird,” she said.
Trisha rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” Michaela laughed. “They’re a little weird. But they’re inviting us to a party; that’s all right isn’t it?”
Trisha examined her nails. “It’s a fancy dress party.” She looked up. “I don’t get the theme though.”
Michaela looked at the note again. “Celia really gets off on fancy dress. Come as your favourite literary person of the 1920’s. Well. You know what that means, don’t you?”
Trisha shook her head and Michaela slung an arm around her shoulders. “It means, my gorgeous thing, there’ll be music and funny coloured cocktails.” She laughed. “We could go as Vita Sackville-West and Violet Trefusis; that would be fun.”
Trisha shrugged out from under Michaela’s arm and picked up the letter. “I don’t know who they are, Michaela. Never heard of them. If we go along to this, I’m just going to be standing around feeling stupid. You know I am.”
Michaela started gathering up her papers. She had to get back to work. “No you won’t babe,” she told Trisha. “It’ll be fun, I guarantee it.”
Trisha shook her head. “No way, it’ll be like last time we went up there. You guys will sit around talking about books and art and crap and I’ll sit there like a dummy.”
Reaching out a finger, Michaela stroked the smooth, tanned skin on Trisha’s hand. “I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy that, sweetheart. We shouldn’t have gone on like that. But this will be different. It will be a party – lots more people, and not all of them obsessed with books. It’s only because Celia’s a poet.”
“And weird.”
“A bit eccentric,” Michaela conceded. “Think about it anyway, okay? I have to get back to the orchard.”
Trisha sighed and tossed the invitation on the bench. “I suppose I’d better get ready for work too. Yay, afternoon shift on a Friday. Lucky me.”
Michaela tucked the papers away for later. “I thought you were enjoying working at the café?”
Trisha screwed up her face. “It’s okay. Just a bit too much like working at the diner. I thought I’d enjoy it more.” She slipped into Michaela’s arms and leaned her head against her shoulder. “What about you? Still loving the orchard?”
Michaela gave a short laugh. “Fuck the orchard,” she said. “Nothing but a pain in the arse at the moment.”
Trisha kissed the underside of Michaela’s jaw. “We should find something else to do,” she said. “We have the money to look around, if we want to.”
They’d had this conversation before, or similar, when Trisha was first looking for a job. Michaela leaned her head against the top of Trisha’s. “Can’t quit the orchard, baby,” she said. “You know that. Not unless there’s something a whole lot better waiting for us.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying. I’ll go get ready for work then.” Trisha straightened up and moved away to go have a shower. “Catch you later, okay?”
Michaela watched her leave the room. “Okay,” she said to herself.
CHAPTER TWO
Surprisingly, Trisha had agreed to go to the fancy dress party and Michaela was waiting for her to finish getting ready. They were going as Vita Sackville-West and Violet Trefusis. Somehow, the idea of these two married women who kept running away together before being dragged back home had caught Trisha’s imagination. Michaela put the finishing touches to the bandage she had wrapped around her head, and tried to fit the hat over the top of it. Trisha had listened in unaccustomed silence when Michaela had explained how Vita had dressed up as a wounded soldier, called herself Stephen and escorted Violet around Monte Carlo, gambling that they wouldn’t be found out.
Trisha walked into the room, stopped, looked at Michaela and laughed. “You look fantastic,” she said. “Love the suit, love the hat, where on earth did you get all this gear?” She twirled around to show off the snappy dress, hat and scarf she was wearing. She looked a picture in the beaded flapper dress, even though the style wasn’t designed for her delicious curves. Her hair was loose, a mass of wild black curls tamed only with a head band around her forehead that matched the dress. With her full lips painted in a red bow, she was exotic and alluring.
Michaela settled the hat, tipped it to a rakish angle and came over to take Trisha’s hand. She bent over in in a bow, kissed it and grinned as Trisha burst into girlish giggling.
“You look absolutely smashing, my dear,” Michaela told her.
Trisha giggled again. “And you look awfully handsome.” She smoothed down the collar of Michaela’s shirt. “I hardly recognize you in shirt and suit and hat, I love the hat.”
Michaela grinned and buttoned the suit jacket she wore over a crisp white shirt. With her tall, slender frame and short brown hair she managed the androgynous look to perfection, much like the tall, dark haired Vita must have done once herself. “Old Frank down the road was tickled pink to lend me some of his old gear. I’ve a feeling he was quite the ladies’ man in his day. I think the dress you’re wearing might have been his mother’s.” She held out her arm. “Shall we go, my dear?” she asked.
Trisha laughed again, hooked her arm through her lover’s and stuck out a foot. “Look,” she said. “Shoes with sparkly crystal bits. And heels. Don’t expect me to walk anywhere, will you?”
Michaela looked down. “What pretty feet you have. This must be the first time I’ve ever seen them in such lady-like shoes.”
“Yeah, I know, funny isn’t it? Just as well they’re not very high. I never learned to walk in heels.”
They headed out the door to the car.
“This is a pretty amazing place to live, you know,” Trisha commented as Michaela parked the car. “It’s stuck right on the side of a frigging mountain.”
Michaela held the door for Trisha to climb out. “Sure is beautiful.” She smiled at Trisha in her costume. “Not as beautiful as you, though.”
Trisha rolled her eyes. “You are so corny,” she said.
“And you love it.”
Trisha kissed her. “Not going to admit it though, Babycakes. But I will say you’re looking pretty damned hot, yourself.”
They smiled at each other and walked toward the house, which did look as though it had been leveled out from steep hillside. Native bush filled the air with various green scents and somewhere, a bell bird sang a greeting from the treetops. The day was bright and warm and Trisha and Michaela followed the path up a wide sweep of lawn to a shady veranda.
“Are we early or something?” Trisha whispered, clinging to Michaela’s arm and trying to stay upright on her heeled shoes.
“Looks a bit like it, doesn’t it?” Michaela led them forward up the wide stairs to the veranda and both were relieved to see several women ranged at tables in the shade, sipping at mint green cocktails.
“Hey Laura,” Michaela stopped to greet one of them.
The woman stood up and hugged Michaela and turned to give Trisha a quick embrace too. “It’s Trisha, isn’t it? Though not today, of course – who are you two today?” She stood back and surveyed them both, hand tucked under chin, considering. After a moment she squealed. “The bandage gives it away! You two absolutely must be Vita and Violet! Or rather, Stephen and Violet, you naughty girls.”
Michaela shook her head in admiration. “Laura, you are probably the only one here who would be able to guess that right. I don’t know how you do it.”
Laura laughed and struck a pose. “Celia will guess too, I’ll bet. But now – who am I? I’ll give you a clue – I’m a New Zealander known these days equally for her short stories, her lovers and dying in France from TB. I’m dressed as one of my characters.” She grinned at them, eyes twinkling.
Michaela didn’t even have to think. Laura, with her short dark hair styled into a neat bob was wearing a white dress with a string of jade beads and green stockings and shoes. Michaela shook her head in admiration. “You’ve totally outdone yourself, Miss Katherine Mansfield, dressed from her own story ‘Bliss’ – one of my favourites, by the way.” She gave a mock bow of greeting.
Laura clapped her hands. “Brilliant. And of course, you must meet my Ida Baker – Luce, honey, come here.” A young woman, her fair hair tied back in a prim little bun and wearing a frilly blouse and a long skirt stepped forward and smiled at them.
Introductions were made all round and talk turned to the day and the party.
“Who’s Celia being today?” Michaela asked.
Laura grinned. “I should really make you guess when you see her, but it’s a bit hard to tell, isn’t it?” She gestured at the rest of the gathering, an attractive assortment of women dressed in similar styles. “Anyway, Celia’s Gertrude Stein, of course. Looks quite fantastically formidable actually, though I’m a bit worried about her. She didn’t look very well when I saw her before.”
Michaela looked around the gathering. She knew most of the women, of course; it was a small community after all and Celia’s parties always drew everyone together.
She hoped Celia was all right. “I’ll go find her if I can,” she said. “And get us a drink, what do you say Violet?”
Ida Baker held up her green concoction. “I have no idea what’s in them,” she said. “But they’re delicious. Green Swizzlers or something, I think they’re called.”
“Sounds good to me,” Trisha said. “How are we all supposed to drive home after a few of those, though?” she asked. “They are alcoholic, aren’t they?”
“This is Celia’s place,” Laura laughed. “Even the food’s alcoholic.”
Michaela kissed Trisha’s cheek. “I’ll be the sober driver,” she said. “But I reckon I could manage one of those, all the same. Let’s go indulge ourselves, shall we?”
They wound their way past several couples talking and laughing, nodding hello, and stepped into the house. Trisha looked around. “This is some place,” she said, taking in the dark floors, white walls and artwork everywhere.
“Sure is, isn’t it?” Michaela agreed. “Celia’s a bit of a collector – of art and people.”
Trisha stepped closer to Michaela. “Who’s Gertrude Stein?” she whispered.
Michaela looped an arm around her girlfriend. “American writer and art patron. She had a salon in Paris and hosted people like Hemmingway and Fitzgerald. Lived with a woman called Alice B. Toklas, who I imagine, Celia’s partner Mandy is being today. You haven’t met Mandy yet, have you?”
Trisha shook her head, looking intimidated as they walked around the room together, admiring the canvases on the walls.
Michaela gave her a squeeze. “You’ll love Mandy. Everyone does. She’s like a surrogate mother to every gay girl in town.” Michaela laughed. “Every time anyone hears of a new girl coming out, they always make sure someone takes her to meet Mandy. Poor things, because it means they have to meet Celia too, and she’s like taking a dive in the deep end.”
They walked through an archway into another room opening onto the veranda. Here was a drinks trolley, with Mandy mixing the minty green concoctions.
“Michaela! And you must be Trisha!” Mandy exclaimed, beaming at them. “I was hoping you were going to come. I’ve managed to miss you the last few times you’ve been to visit.”
Michaela leaned over and kissed the older woman on the cheek. “You know I’d never miss one of your parties,” she said.
Mandy laughed and gave her a hug and one for Trisha too. “Celia’s parties, you mean. She’s the one who loves to organise these things.” She stood back and looked at the two young women. “Tell me who you are; you have to – it’s a frightfully obscure theme, isn’t it?”
Michaela prodded Trisha.
“Violet Trefusis and Vita Sackville-West,” Trisha said.
Mandy nodded her head. “Oh yes, those two,” she said. “Always trying to run off together, weren’t they? I must say Michaela, you look a very striking young man.” She passed them both a green drink.
Michaela accepted the glass and took a sip. “Wow, that’s really good,” she said. “Where is Celia, if you don’t mind me asking? Laura said she’s not looking very well. I hope she’s okay?”
Mandy, her face usually unlined with plump cheeks though she was in her late sixties, suddenly looked drawn and tired. She took Michaela’s arm and hustled them away from the drinks trolley and the buzz of voices from outside. Michaela touched a hand to Mandy’s shoulder.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
Mandy shook her head. “I’m glad to see you both, actually, because Celia’s been acting strangely the last couple of weeks. I thought you might be able to help.”
Michaela and Trisha swapped glances. Trisha cleared her throat. “Why would we be able to help? I don’t mean to be rude or anything…” Her voice tailed away and she shrugged.
Mandy gave her a warm look and rubbed her arm. “I just thought, with all you did in America or wherever it was, that you might know what to do now.”
Trisha’s eyebrows shot upwards. “How did you hear about that? We’ve never talked about it.” She looked over at Michaela. “Well, not really.”
Michaela had the grace to look embarrassed. “I told Celia a bit about it when we were here,” she said. “After you’d gone for a walk outside, that was.”
“You told her about Caro and the Shadow People? Everything?”
“Yes,” Michaela answered and glanced at Mandy. “Celia and Mandy are like family to me. My grandmother, when she was landed with me, made an effort to get to know them, thinking they might help me, you know, come to terms with everything.”
“And we were glad to,” said Mandy, smiling at both of the young women, her face relaxing for a moment into its accustomed cheeriness. “I always admired your grandmother for doing that for you, Michaela. It can’t have been easy for her, turning up on our doorstep to ask for help. She was a wonderful woman, your grandmother, and she loved you very much.”
Michaela looked at her drink. “She did, didn’t she? I was so scared and confused when my mother dumped me with her.” She looked up at Trisha then Mandy. “But Grandma was great, she just took me under her wing and made me feel like everything was okay.” Her smile cracked wider. “Then she decided I had to meet you and Celia, even though she hadn’t heard anything but rumours about you.”
She took Trisha’s hand. “So I’m sorry sweetheart, I kinda spilled the beans about everything that happened over at your place.”
Trisha squeezed Michaela’s hand. “Okay. I guess it’s okay.” She looked at Mandy. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know any of this.”
Mandy patted her shoulder. ‘You’re part of the family too now,” she said. “That’s just how it works I’m afraid. Celia was very taken with you, by the way.”
Now Trisha did look startled. “Um, I was kinda terrified by her to tell the truth.”
Mandy rubbed her face and the tiredness and worry was back. “Celia can be a bit much on first meeting.”
“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?” Michaela asked. “What’s wrong?”
Mandy sighed. “Celia’s not, well, been herself lately. She’s been complaining about being followed all the time, but there’s never anything there.” She flung her hands up in a gesture of helplessness.
Michaela cast a glance around the house. “Followed? Followed by what?”
“I don’t know!” Mandy looked around too, her eyes suddenly wide. “She’s talking about the strangest things. Ghosts, she keeps talking about ghosts, about being haunted.” Her eyes came to rest on Michaela and the worry in them was obvious.
Trisha took a step back, shaking her head. “Uh uh, no way are you talking about ghosts. I don’t care what happened to us last year but I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Mandy shrugged and rummaged around in a pocket in her long skirt. She withdrew a cotton handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. She blinked at Trisha and Michaela was upset to see that right at the moment, Mandy was showing every one of her years. She reached out and touched Mandy on the arm.
“You’re really worried, aren’t you?” she said.
“Celia’s been so strange,” Mandy said, sniffing into the hanky again.
“I don’t want to be rude,” Trisha said, “but perhaps Celia needs to see a doctor or something?”
Michaela’s expression was pained. “Celia’s not the type to imagine things, Trish.”
Trisha just shrugged.
Mandy looked back and forth between them. “I just hoped maybe you’d have a talk to Celia. You know a bit about these things, I thought. If you’d just talk to her, try to find out what’s going on?”
Michaela grasped Mandy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Of course we will. If there’s anything at all we can do, of course we will.”
Mandy’s face collapsed in relief and the handkerchief was tucked back in the pocket again. She blinked rapidly and sniffed, finding her smile again. “Thank you, Michaela. Thank you so much. And you Trisha.” She grabbed Trisha’s hand too and the three of them stood silent a moment.
“When do you want us to talk to her?” Michaela asked. “Now? Here at the party?”
Mandy shook her head. “No, Celia would hate that – you know how she is about her gatherings. They’re for enjoying.” She looked past Michaela and her face took on that worried cast again.
CHAPTER THREE
Turning to look, Michaela saw Celia bearing down on them, a large lady with close cropped grey hair, her stocky frame dressed in striped shirt, patterned waistcoat and long skirt. Michaela gave Mandy’s hand a last squeeze then couldn’t help but grin.
“Ms. Gertrude Stein!” she exclaimed. “At last I have the pleasure of telling you how much I admire your work.” Michaela took the hand offered to her and bent low over it.
Celia laughed. “Michaela, you old flirt, don’t you look fabulous?” She turned to Trisha. “And Trisha too, I’m so glad you could come, you both look wonderful together.” She stood back and pursed her lips. “Let’s see, who are you?” Her face lit up. “Vita and Violet, of course! Michaela, you should dress like this more often – you look stunning. And Trisha, what a lovely Violet you make. You do know she was an awfully interesting person. Heavily involved in the art scene when she finally settled in Paris.” Celia sighed. “One of the most tempestuous love stories, Violet and Vita.”
“Not quite as successful as Gertrude and Alice, however,” Michaela said, smiling. “They were devoted to each other.”
Celia patted Mandy on the arm. “Another reason for us to choose them today, isn’t that right, my dear?”
Mandy laughed, the tension draining from her face, if not her eyes. “I don’t think anyone would have suited you quite as well as Gertrude Stein, my love.”
“Indeed. Amazing woman,” Celia said. “Can I have one of those drinks you’re dishing out everywhere, darling? Everyone’s enjoying them immensely, though I’ve no doubt that come the end of the afternoon, we’ll all be lying in ungainly heaps under the table.”
“They’re delicious,” Trisha ventured. “I love the colour. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk something so green.”
“Celia wanted to have abstinthe to drink today,” Mandy said. “Can you imagine that?”
Celia laughed. “Totally appropriate, I would have thought, but Mandy vetoed it straight away. These green cocktails do the trick though, don’t you think?”
Michaela nodded in agreement. They really did taste good, fresh and somehow green just like they looked. She took another sip and examined their hostess over the edge of the cocktail glass. “How are you Celia?” she asked. “It’s been ages since we caught up last.”
A brief, haunted look passed over Celia’s face, or maybe Michaela imagined it. “Things have been, well, a little strange lately. Are you able to stay after everyone else has gone? I wouldn’t mind talking to you about it, actually. Or rather, Mandy has persuaded me of the necessity of it.”
Mandy broke in. “It might be a better idea to ask the girls back tomorrow, Celia dear.”
Celia frowned. “Of course. Then you can simply get on with enjoying yourselves. We’ll all be far too tired after the party to talk sensibly, thank you Mandy.” She looked from Michaela to Trisha and back again. “Would you be able to come around tomorrow, for lunch perhaps?”
Michaela answered without consulting Trisha. “We can do that, Celia, of course. We’d be glad to help, if it’s at all possible.”
Celia nodded. “That’s a relief then,” she said. “In the meantime, please, enjoy yourself, there’s food and drink and soon there will be music too, I think.” She looked askance at Mandy.
“The musicians are due here at four,” Mandy confirmed.
Trisha looked surprised. “Live music?”
Celia gave one of her trademark wide smiles. “A jazz trio, to match our fancy get ups.” She took Trisha’s hand and hooked it through her arm. “Michaela, I’m going to steal your lover away and introduce her to everybody.”
Michaela looked after them and couldn’t help but laugh at the alarmed look on poor Trisha’s face.
“She’ll be all right,” Mandy said, patting Michaela’s arm. “Celia’s taken a bit of a fancy to her. She always is a sucker for a pretty accent.” Mandy laughed.
Michaela sipped her drink again. “Trisha was a little worried about coming here,” she said. “After last time when Celia and I got carried away talking about books. Trish said she didn’t like sitting there feeling stupid.”
“I can imagine what it was like for the poor girl. When Celia gets going there’s just no stopping her,” said Mandy. “But just about everyone’s here; there will be plenty of people Trisha can talk to.” She watched the two women get swallowed up on the now crowded veranda then looked back to Michaela. “Thank you for agreeing to come back tomorrow. It took a lot for Celia to ask you to. She doesn’t want to admit anything is wrong, of course.”
Michaela looked at Mandy and saw the worry that lurked in Mandy’s eyes. “You know I’d do anything to help, Mandy. Not just for Celia, but for you too. You’ve always been so good to me.”
Mandy pinkened. “Ah shush,” she said. “You’re family, my dear. That’s all there is to that.”
A giggling posse of women tumbled inside and headed for the drinks trolley. Mandy turned and embraced Michaela again. “You go and enjoy yourself, you hear? I’d better get back to my hostess duties and make sure the food gets put out sooner rather than later. These drinks are hardly lime cordial.”
Michaela kissed the grandmotherly woman on the cheek. “Okay then,” she said. “And if we don’t get to speak to each other properly again, I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
It was getting dark, the sun sinking gracefully towards the horizon, spreading her red and orange skirts around her as she settled. Trisha leaned heavily on Michaela as they made their way down the path to the car. The evening rang with the first haunting calls of the morepork owls and the ringing laughter and voices of women calling their good byes to each other.
“That was some party,” said Trisha, trying not to stumble in her heels. “I can’t believe I actually managed to dance in these things.”
Michaela laughed and propped Trisha up against the car as she unlocked and opened the door for her. “You had a great time, I think,” she said.
Trisha smiled up at Michaela and flung her arms around Michaela’s neck. “I did actually,” she said and gave Michaela a smacking kiss on the lips. “I’m glad you persuaded me to come. I’ve never seen so many yummy women in one place.”
Michaela leaned against her warm body. “Any you, my love, were the most delectable one there.”
Trisha gazed up at her. “Delectable,” she said. “I don’t know what that means but it sounds delicious.”
Michaela laughed. “Silly thing. It means delicious. Now get in the car so we can go home and I can have a real taste of all your delectable, delicious bits.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Trisha was in still in her arms when Michaela heard a piercing scream coming from the house. Trisha’s laugh died on her lips.
“What the fuck was that?” she asked.
Michaela shook her head. “I don’t know but we’d better go see.”
It was silent in front of the house when Michaela took the steps up to the veranda two at a time, Trisha behind her, slower in her heels. The last of the party-goers stood tucked up to each other in shock. Laura was in the doorway, her hand to her mouth.
“What happened?” Michaela asked, grabbing Laura’s arm.
Laura just shook her head. “I don’t know. We were all getting ready to leave. Celia and Mandy were here saying goodbye, then there was this noise from the house – really loud, like thunder or something and Celia goes really pale and turns around…” Laura trailed off into silence, her eyes wide under the heavy black fringe.
Trisha was beside them, her shoes dangling from a hand. “Turns around and what?” she asked.
Laura swallowed. “There was a doll on the floor behind them.”
Blinking, Michaela let go of Laura’s arm and took off her hat. She ran her fingers through the hair tufting up from the bandage she wore. “What do you mean, a doll?” She was confused. “We heard someone scream.”
One of the other women spoke up. Michaela looked at her. Macy, that was her name. Fairly new to the area, she was dressed up in an emerald green silk dress and turban. Michaela had no idea who she was supposed to be.
“It was me who screamed,” Macy said and Michaela noticed the woman’s hands were shaking. “The doll. It winked at me.” Macy looked at the faces gathered around her. “I swear, it winked at me.” She groped her way to a chair and collapsed onto it. “It was horrible.”
Michaela looked at Trisha whose expression mirrored her own, she was sure. A winking doll? Unlikely. She gave a small shrug and pushed past Laura into the house. “Where’s Celia now?” she asked.
Laura stood back to let them past. “She and Mandy disappeared into the house. Mandy looked green and Celia looked like she’d seen a ghost.”
Michaela stopped walking and stared back at Laura.
“I want to go home,” someone said. Macy.
“You might as well all head on home,” Michaela told them. “I’ll take care of things here.” She turned on her heel and disappeared into the house, looking for Celia and Mandy.
They were in the kitchen, Celia sitting at the breakfast table, cradling her head in her hands while Mandy stood over her, patting her shoulder.
“We heard someone scream,” Michaela said and walked around the table so she could see their faces. Mandy was indeed looking green; Laura had been right.
Trisha followed her into the room and surprised Michaela by pulling out the chair on the other side of Celia and resting a hand on her arm.
“Celia?” Trisha asked. “Are you all right?”
Raising her head, Celia looked at Trisha then over at Michaela. Her eyes were red, as though she’d been awake for too long. Mandy’s lip was trembling.
“It’s all right,” Celia said at last. “That Macy’s a silly woman, screaming like that. Upsetting everyone.”
“She said there was a doll and it winked at her,” Michaela explained.
Celia waved a hand in the air. “The doll fell on the floor,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure it didn’t wink at anyone.”
An odd choice of words, thought Michaela. “Pretty sure?”
Trisha had picked up on something else. “Where did it fall from? I haven’t seen any dolls displayed.”
Mandy pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down. “Yes, Celia. Tell them. Where did it fall from?”
“You know where it was,” Celia answered her.
“No, I don’t. You’ve been carrying that dreadful thing from room to room for a couple of weeks now. I don’t know where you put it last. I’m not even allowed to touch it.” She grimaced and groped for her handkerchief again. “Not that I want to touch the horrible thing.”
Michaela squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She didn’t have the faintest idea what was going on. “Okay. I’m not following,” she said at last. “What is this doll everyone’s talking about anyway?” The last of the voices drifted away outside. Everyone was leaving.
Celia just shook her head and stood up. “I’m too tired for this,” she said. “I’m going to bed.” She looked at Michaela over the table and gave Trisha a pained smile. “We’ll talk about all this tomorrow.”
Mandy watched her go then turned her face to Michaela. No longer looking green, her face instead had the unhealthy grey pallor of extreme fatigue. There were shadows under her eyes. “She doesn’t want to talk about any of it,” she said. “I can hardly get Celia to tell me what’s going on.”
Frustrated, Michaela wanted to ask about twenty questions, even the one that asked if it were vegetable, animal or mineral. She caught sight of Trisha’s slight head shake and thought better of bombarding Mandy with her questions.
“I think you ought to turn in for the night, Mandy,” Trisha said. “You’re really tired, I can tell. We’ll come back tomorrow and you can tell us all about it.” She frowned at Michaela over Mandy’s shoulder and Michaela knew she was still entertaining super-sized doubts about the wisdom of getting involved.
Ghosts? Winking dolls? Michaela thought back to last year when she and Trisha had encountered the shadow people – creatures with no more substance than shadows that had plagued Trisha’s sister Caro, watching her, watching them all from the corners of the room. She shivered slightly with the memory. Shivered partly from remembered fear, adrenaline and excitement. Still thoroughly fascinated by anything that Trisha so eloquently termed ‘spooky shit’, she had to resist the temptation to insist on hearing the story now.
But it was late and Mandy was on her feet, hugging Trisha good night. Michaela wrapped her arms around Mandy too, concerned for the woman who had been like a great aunt to her throughout her teen aged years.
“We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” she said as she searched Mandy’s face for some idea, any idea, of what was wrong.
Mandy tried a smile and nodded. “That really would be best. I’m not as young as I used to be. This has all been a bit too much.”
There was a scritching, scratching sound from the wall and Michaela looked up. Something deep within her clenched tight at the noise. Something visceral and suddenly afraid. “What on earth was that?”
She felt Mandy shudder beside her as the noise came again. Michaela glanced at her, then walked over to the wall where she thought the scratching had come from. “It sounded like it was coming from inside the wall.
“It’s just mice,” Mandy said, her voice high and quavering. “Please, just ignore it. I’m sorry but I can’t tell you any more tonight.”
Michaela looked back at her. It hadn’t sounded like mice. It had sounded, well, as though someone, a person, were scratching their fingernails on the plasterboard. From inside the wall.
And as for Mandy not being able to tell them anymore tonight, she hadn’t told them anything at all.
“We need to go, Michaela,” Trisha said.
Michaela nodded. Mandy looked dead on her feet. They said goodbye and let themselves out. Walking down the path, the night was full dark now and the scented air pressed against Michaela with cool fingers.
“What do you suppose that was all about?” she asked Trisha.
“I don’t know babe, but I’ve a feeling it’s something I don’t want to get involved in. Whatever’s got those two all worked up, it ain’t good.”
They walked down to the car, the tight fist of unease in Michaela’s stomach making her shiver in the cool air.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sunday morning and neither of them had to get up and go to work. It was another stunning, summer day. Michaela blinked in the sunlight, still thinking about Mandy and Celia as she got in the car and went to the bakery. Trisha was in the shower, humming some obscure tune while she soaped and scrubbed. Ordinarily, Michaela would have been tempted to hijack Trisha’s wet, slippery body on such a morning, but not this time. She was concerned about her two older friends.
She sat out with Trisha on the porch and ate the fresh pastries, washing them down with thick, sweet coffee.
Caro wandered out to join them. “You two enjoy that party last night?” she asked, swiping a Danish from the plate on the table and sitting on the rail to eat it, her long, tanned legs swinging bare in the sun.
Trisha stretched and poked her sister with a toe. “It was great, to begin with at least,” she said. “You should have seen us, all dolled up. Michaela looked amazing.” She flung a lazy smile at Michaela. “Didn’t you babe? You looked like something else in that suit and hat. You don’t have to give the duds back to old Frank, do you?”
Michaela, in the middle of a mouthful of croissant, shook her head. When she’d swallowed, she said, “No, he’s letting me keep them. I tried them on in his back room and you should have heard him howl with laughter when he got a look at me. Said I made a better looking young man that he had himself, and that was saying something.” She laughed at the memory.
Trisha nodded her head. “Honestly sis, you should have seen her. Next time we go out anywhere, I’ll get her to wear them again.”
Caro finished the Danish and licked her fingers and looked across at her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “Cool. What are you guys doing today?” she asked.
Trisha’s face clouded over. “We have to go back up to Celia and Mandy’s, don’t we?” she asked Michaela. She looked at Caro. “Where the party was.”
Michaela nodded. “They’re expecting us for lunch.”
“Why’s that?” Caro asked.
Trisha shrugged. “There’s something going on there. Something really weird, and thanks to Michaela telling all about what happened at home, they seem to think we’re the new Ghostbusters or something.”
Caro hopped down and poured herself a coffee from the plunger. “What do you mean?”
Michaela answered. “We’re not exactly sure,” she said.
“It’s all a bit bloody mysterious, if you ask me,” Trisha interrupted. “First Mandy asks for help – without saying much about what she wants help with, then at the end of the night she clams up tighter than nun.”
“Jeeze Trisha,” said Michaela. “Tighter than a nun?”
Caro settled back on the rail with her coffee. Mack, Michaela’s old dog wandered over and she scratched behind his ears. “Focus, will ya?” she said. “What’s the weird stuff they need a Ghostbuster for?”
Michaela stretched her legs out and warmed her toes in the sun, frowning as she thought about it. “They wouldn’t say. Mandy mentioned something about Celia seeing ghosts and being followed by something that isn’t there when she turns around to look, but that’s all we know. Although as we were leaving the strangest thing happened. Something about a doll appearing and winking at someone…”
“Macy,” said Trisha. “But I wouldn’t pay much attention to anything that woman says. She’s a few cucumber sandwiches short of a picnic, that one.”
Michaela shrugged and reached for her own cup of coffee. “What about that noise though?” She shook her head. “I can still hear it in my head. It sounded like it was coming from inside the wall.” She turned to Caro. “We were in the kitchen with Mandy, just after this business with the doll – which we never saw, by the way, and there’s this strange noise comes from the wall. Scratching, but loud, as though someone were scraping their nails across the wall.” She frowned, remembering. “But it came from inside the wall, I’d swear to it.”
Trisha snagged the last pastry. “It was probably mice, just like Mandy said.”
“Not mice.” Michaela shook her head and fought the urge to shiver as she heard the sound in her head again. “It was too loud. But whatever it was, we’re going back today for lunch. Hopefully we’ll get the full story then.”
“Can I come?” asked Caro. “It sounds interesting.”
Trisha groaned. “It doesn’t sound interesting, for fucks sakes. Didn’t you have enough of the weird stuff last time? I’m not even convinced there is any weird stuff this time. Celia needs to see a doctor and Mandy is stressed out because Celia needs to see a doctor.”
Caro shrugged. “Maybe, but what if something really is going on? It sounds interesting. I think it sounds interesting.” She shot an astute glance over at Michaela. “And so does Michaela. I know she does.”
Trisha tugged on her hair. “You’re nuts, the two of you. Why would you want to get involved in anything like that again, even if that is what’s going on? Last time was enough to last me a life time.”
There was silence for a moment, except for birdsong and a gentle fart from the old dog. No one took any notice and he flopped down at Caro’s feet, looking grateful not to be sent away like he usually was.
‘So,” said Caro, breaking the silence. “Can I come or what? I’m interested in this stuff, you know I am. They’re talking about ghosts and things! We made a great team last time, the three of us.”
Trisha scowled. “If it weren’t for you, there wouldn’t have had to be a last time.”
Caro stared mutinously at her sister. “Thanks a bunch, sis,’ she said. “You should be bloody thanking me.”
“How?” said Trisha. “And don’t swear.”
Caro rolled her eyes. “God, you’re impossible. Who the hell ever invented sisters? Anyway,” she carried on with exaggerated patience, “if it wasn’t for what went down there, you’d still be working in Mom’s diner, and Michaela would still be here and you two never would have got back together and you’d both be miserable.” She sat back, triumphant.
Michaela laughed and reached out to Trisha. “The girl has a point, honey.”
Trisha pouted. “Low blow.” She looked over at Michaela. “It’s up to you. Maybe Caro should go in my place. She’s a lot keener than I am.”
Michaela shook her head. “It would be rude if you didn’t come too.” She turned her attention to Caro, swinging her legs on the veranda, a hopeful look on her face. “Do you really want to, Caro?” she asked.
Caro nodded. “Definitely. Weird stuff? Count me in.”
Trisha covered her face. “I’m surrounded by crazy people,” she muttered.
“Well,” Michaela said doubtfully. “I just hope Celia and Mandy won’t mind you coming along too,” she said.
Trisha groaned again. “Honestly Michaela,” she said. “You treat Celia like she’s the fucking queen or something.”
Michaela shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Celia’s like family to me. She’s someone I respect,” she said, wanting to explain but thinking she probably just sounded defensive. She tried again. “She’s just someone who matters , that’s all. Her and Mandy – anything I can do for them, I will.”
Trisha sighed. “All right then. I’m not gonna pretend I understand, because I don’t. But there is something about the both of them, I’ll give you that. Mandy’s really nice and Celia scares the shit out of me, but at the same time she’s kinda cool. In a scary, intimidating way.” She shrugged.
“Okay,” said Caro. “So I can come?” She turned to Michaela, her face lit with excitement. “Shall we take some of the equipment? The cameras and temperature gauges and everything? I know you’ve still got it all.”
Michaela flicked a glance at Trisha who lifted her hands in surrender. Michaela grinned. “I hadn’t thought of it, Caro, but I guess it wouldn’t do any harm. To be prepared, I mean. Just in case…” Her voice trailed off as Trisha stood up.
“Don’t mind me,” Trisha said. “Carry on, by all means. But if you get to the stage of designing ghostbuster uniforms, count me out, will ya? I’m going to go do the bloody laundry.”
Caro and Michaela both watched her go back inside.
“She’s really not interested in this sort of stuff, is she?” Caro said after a moment.
Michaela sighed. “No, she’s not.”
Caro eyed Michaela. “But you are, aren’t you? You actually really want to do this, don’t you? And not just to help your friends.”
The girl was too insightful. Michaela looked down at her hands. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I just about want to do this sort of thing more than anything else.” She looked up at Caro. “But don’t tell Trisha that, okay?”
Caro shrugged. “She can’t stop you, you know. If it’s really what you want to do.”
Michaela sighed and stood up. She reached out and tugged on one of Caro’s shoulder-length black curls. “Not as easy as that, sweetheart.” She looked at her watch. “We’re due there at one o’clock, okay?”
Caro nodded and Michaela disappeared inside after Trisha. Caro swung her feet some more, looking out over drive towards the rows of kiwifruit vines. She was glad she and her sister had come here to live. She liked just about everything about it, how laid back life was, the beach, the people…what she didn’t like was watching her sister make everything Michaela did that much harder. Trisha hooking up with Michaela was the best thing that had ever happened.
Caro lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. If Trisha screwed it up with Michaela, what would happen to them? To all of them? To her? She didn’t want to go back to the States, she wanted to stay right here. She’d never forgive her sister if it all turned to custard. It was funny how much Michaela had come to mean to her. She was like another sister, she supposed. One who was really cool and non-judgmental – unlike Trisha. Michaela was someone who could be counted on to always listen and understand, or if she didn’t understand at least she never went off the deep end, just kept Caro talking until she knew exactly what Caro was feeling. Caro opened her eyes again and looked down at the dog. She scratched him with her foot.
“People are weird, aren’t they boy?” she said softly to the dog, then got up to go choose what to wear this afternoon. It had to be something nice if these people were as important and amazing as Michaela seemed to think they were.
CHAPTER SIX
“Caro!” Michaela yelled, checking her watch for the third time in as many minutes. “It’s time to go.” Mack wandered in instead and stood looking up at Michaela, wagging his long, skinny tail. She bent down and gave the old boy a pat. “Can’t come too, Mack. Going in the car, not the truck.” The dog, acting like he’d understood what she’d just said to him, walked away and lay down under the table with a sigh.
Michaela stood up and rubbed her hands together. She and Caro had dug through the cupboard earlier, dragging out the cameras and recorder and EMF meter then had a fun half hour checking they had working batteries. Trisha had looked on, shaking her head at their enthusiasm.
Caro appeared. “Ready,” she said. “Where’s Trisha?”
Michaela picked up the car keys. “She got called in to work. Their new girl is sick or something.”
Caro looked at her in surprise. “So it’s just us going?”
“Yep, and we’ll be late if we don’t get a move on.”
They loaded the back seat of the car with the cameras and other gear then climbed in. Michaela was pretty sure they wouldn’t need it, at least this time, but Caro had been too excited about sorting through it to say no to her. She checked her watch again then drove down the driveway. When they started winding their way up into the hills, Caro craned her neck to look all around.
“I’ve never been up here, have I?” she asked.
Michaela shook her head.
“Wow, this is cool. They live up a mountain.” Caro was smiling, drinking in the view.
“Wait until you see the house,” Michaela said. “Celia and Mandy designed it themselves. It’s quite amazing. Very…” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “Very elegant,” she said at last.
Caro goggled at the house when they arrived. “It’s like something out of a book,” she said as they walked up the stone steps and along the path to the veranda. “The sort of place that just begs for garden parties and interesting people sitting around discussing amazing things.”
Michaela looked at the girl, amused. She’d thought the same thing herself. “You should have seen it yesterday,” she told Caro. “There was a jazz trio playing under a gazebo on the lawn and everyone dancing and drinking and laughing, like something straight out of the 1920’s. It was wonderful.”
“It must have been amazing if even Trisha enjoyed herself,” said Caro.
They climbed the steps to the veranda. “She had a brilliant time. Even danced. In high heels.” Michaela laughed.
Mandy opened the door before Michaela had had a chance to knock. “Michaela,” she said. “You’re so punctual.” She hugged Michaela in greeting then looked past her at Caro.
“This is Caro, Trisha’s sister,” Michaela said. “I hope you don’t mind her coming along too, but she was a big part of what happened last year. I thought she’d be a help too.”
Mandy raised her eyebrows at Michaela but gave Caro a warm smile. “Pleased to meet you, dear,” she said then looked back at Michaela. “Where is Trisha?”
She gestured for them both to come inside as Michaela explained that Trisha had been called into work.
“What a shame,” said Mandy. “Celia’s really quite fond of her already, you know. She would have been glad to see her again.”
They followed Mandy deeper into the house and Caro stared around wide-eyed at the rooms. “This is an amazing home you have,” she ventured.
Mandy turned around and smiled. “We like it,” she said. “Celia designed it herself. But you haven’t met Celia yet, have you dear?”
They went through into the kitchen. “Coffee?” Mandy asked.
“Please,” Michaela said.
Mandy nodded. “What about you, Caro? What would you like?”
“Coffee would be just fine for me too,” Caro answered politely.
“Right. I thought we’d sit out on the terrace, since it’s another lovely day.” Mandy gestured at the French doors which led to a private, cobbled terrace at the side of the house. A cast iron table was spread with a cloth and food. “Make yourselves at home while I make the coffee and find where Celia’s hiding herself.”
Michaela and Caro stepped out onto the terrace while Mandy disappeared deeper into the kitchen. Caro looked all around, taking in the low stone wall overhung with ferns and other plants she couldn’t recognize.
“This place is amazing,” she whispered to Michaela. “Mandy didn’t look too pleased to see me though.”
Michaela looked uncomfortable. “They’re not too good with surprises,” she said. “It’ll be all right though. Shame Trisha couldn’t come. Celia really does like her.”
Caro was still gazing around. “What’s Celia like? Trisha’s right, you do speak of her like she’s really important.”
Michaela shrugged. “She’s just one of those people who make a difference to the world. Anyway, you’ll meet her in a minute.”
“Mandy’s nice,” Caro decided. “But she looks a little stressed.”
Michaela sat down on one of the chairs and tried not to fidget. “I think she is,” she said. “It’s not a social call we’re making, remember?”
Caro sat down too and they waited in silence. The minutes stretched out.
“I’m starting to feel real nervous,” Caro admitted.
Michaela smiled at her. “You’ll be all right,” she said. “They’ll be here soon and we can start to see what all this is about.”
Caro shrugged. “I don’t know how you manage to keep so cool,” she said. “This food looks good though I’m going to be too nervous to eat anything at this rate.”
Michaela smiled at her over the plates of scones, jam and cream and sandwiches. “You’ll be all right,” she repeated. “Just relax. No one’s going to bite you.”
Caro rolled her eyes and got up to explore the walled terrace. She wandered over to the back. “Oh my God, Michaela. Look at this awesome view. You can see right down to the sea.”
Michaela smiled again but stayed where she was. She’d already seen the awesome view and the truth was she was starting to feel a bit nervous too. Where were Mandy and Celia? It wasn’t like them to keep anyone waiting.
She was just thinking about going inside to see if anything was wrong when Mandy bustled out onto the terrace carrying a coffee pot.
“Sorry girls,” Mandy said. “Sorry to keep you waiting, it’s been a bit of a bad day so far.”
Michaela stood up and took the coffee pot gently from Mandy’s hand. “Sit down Mandy,” she said. “You look worn out. I’ll pour the coffee. Would you like one too?”
Mandy did sit down but she shook her head. “Jittery enough already,” she answered. “I made a pot of chamomile tea but I left it in the kitchen.” She made no move to get up and fetch it though.
“I’ll get it,” Caro offered and Mandy gave her a grateful look.
Michaela poured coffee for herself and Caro then sat down and took Mandy’s hand. “What’s the matter, Mandy?” she asked in a low voice. “Please tell me. I’ll do anything to help.”
Mandy patted Michaela’s hand. “I know you will Michaela.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Michaela leaned forward. “Where’s Celia?” she asked.
Mandy shook her head. “She won’t come out,” she said. “Refuses to come out of her room. I told her you girls were here and she just said I would have to talk to you because she wasn’t coming out.” Mandy wiped her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Michaela.”
Michaela felt an unaccustomed prickle of tears behind her own eyes. She wasn’t used to seeing Mandy like this. Mandy was always strong and cheerful. Her mind flicked back to the scene in the kitchen the night before. What on earth was going on?
Caro came back out with the teapot, took one look at the two older women and poured Mandy a cup of tea. “I can go wait out the front if you like,” she said.
Mandy swiped a hand across her eyes again and looked at Caro. “No,” she said. “Of course not. I’m all right. And if Michaela thinks you should be here to, then you’re welcome.” She picked up the cup of tea in a trembling hand. “Thank you my dear,” she said. “Please sit down, have something to eat.” Her voice strengthened as she took up her usual hostess duties.
Michaela picked up her coffee, giving Mandy some time to compose herself. She smiled across at Caro who looked uncomfortable and out of her depth. “Have something to eat, Caro,” she said. “These sandwiches look good.” She took a sandwich herself and bit into it, even though she wasn’t feeling at all hungry, just worried. Mandy though, gave her a grateful look and offered the plate of fresh scones to Caro.
“I made them myself,” Mandy said. “First thing this morning.”
Caro took one and spread it with jam and cream. “Your kitchen is beautiful,” she said.
Mandy was starting to relax. “It’s my pride and joy, that kitchen. I can spend hours in there.” She attempted a laugh. “It’s just as well one of us likes to cook. If it were up to Celia we’d both starve.” She looked ruefully down at her plump, matronly body. “As you can see, we’ve managed to avoid that.”
Michaela ate her sandwich, barely tasting it as she wondered how to introduce the subject of Celia again. Something was going on, but so far she had absolutely no idea what.
Mandy must have read her mind. She sighed and put down her cup. “I don’t know what to do, Michaela,” she repeated.
Michaela nodded. “Tell me what’s been happening, Mandy.”
Mandy played with the rings on her fingers, sighed again then started talking. “You’re going to think us very foolish, I suppose,” she said and waved away Michaela’s automatic denial. “We have been very foolish, that much seems obvious now, but well, Celia got carried away, you see – she so often does, but it’s never been anything of a problem. An embarrassment sometimes, but never a problem.” She stopped to take a sip of tea. Another sigh.
“I don’t know if you know this, but Celia decided she was going to write a biography a while ago?” She waited for Michaela to answer.
Michaela shook her head. “She said she was thinking of working on something different, but that was all. Who’s the subject?”
“Her grandmother. Sylvia Dora Hansen. Which was all very well; Sylvia was a wonderfully interesting woman by all accounts. She was also a spiritualist. Which would make her biography all the more fascinating, but I’m afraid that Celia got rather carried away with that part of things.” Mandy stopped to fiddle with the table cloth.
“Anyway,” she continued. “The upshot of it all was that Celia decided we would have our own séance. She thought if anyone would be open to coming through and speaking to us, it would be this Sylvia woman.”